11.

Julius surveyed the camp. Stranded by ditches, fire tapered as the tents crumbled in black smoke. He hurled his gaze back to the man tethered to the flagpole. 

Despite his facetious mein, he was suffering. The boiled leather he wore was still damp - possibly from the swim - Julius felt it while he was wringing his neck. Tall but lean, he shivered in the blustering gale. His ash blond hair hung like icicles over a plump forehead. A bronze eyepatch was strapped across his diamond-cut face, pale as though whittled out of a block of hardened snow. On the right of his straight nose, the emerald eye dimmed and glowed. 

And what wouldn't the enemies like to lose? Julius found himself pondering the same question when Sergius Valerius bolted into view. 

"General!" Valerius cried as he sketched a quick bow. "One of the soldiers sent out to dispatch the grain has just returned, saying they've spotted unusual movements on the borders. Might be the Turisian armies." He handed over the papyrus scroll, his face sullen. 

Julius shook his wrist, unfolding the papyrus sent from the centurion put in charge of escorting the grain. It snapped in the wind before crumpling up in his clenched fist. He flung his eyes to the flagpole. "The Turisians wouldn't want to lose their chance to play both ends against the middle," he said, his voice more gruff than usual. 

The blond man squinted and grinned. "There you go."

Julius sneered in return. "Even so," he went forth, "it does not absolve you of anything. You might have as well plotted it all, cornering me into prioritizing the Turisian invasion over Lorenzo's legions." 

"I admit," the blond man wheezed. "I've colluded with Omari Ahmed to hire the sellswords. But only against you. Not our people! If anything, my charge should be that I haven't thought it out!" Gale pierced like many an awl plying at once. The blond man sneezed, his head dropping to his chest. "But the blunder isn't irrevocable, not yet," he held forth while his voice dwindled in volume. "Like you've said so yourself, the Turisians wouldn't want to lose their chance. But that's also too vague, and you need to narrow it down to find a practical breach, which should be Omari Ahmed. He plays the pivot in engaging you and Lorenzo in direct bloodshed. If…" He had to pause for another fit of cough. Before he could resume, a soldier hurtled towards them. 

"General!" The man cried, his breaths swirling up in white wisps from his sooty face. "We've caught three infiltrators! They were trying to escape through the defile to the north!" Then, throwing back his head, he waggled a hand for others to bring forward their captives. 

"Are these your men?" Julius swept his eyes between the flagpole and the ground, where the three were shoved to their knees. 

The blond man clucked his tongue and laughed, his head shaking at the three. "What were you thinking trying to escape through the defile? Haven't I told you, once you set the fire, lay low and blend in? Everyone would be busy putting out the fire, and no one would pay you any notice!"

"But Ahmed said if we could catch and kill Lady Ariadne at her escape, we'll be heavenly rewarded!" the one on the left replied. "We figured she'd use the defile."

"And haven't I told you, it isn't the Turisian but Lorenzo who's actually paying your emolument?" the blond man snapped, glaring with his one eye. 

"But how does killing the woman affect who wins the war?" Another retorted.

Rapping the back of his head against the flagpole, the blond man sighed. "You greedy little scums." 

Julius turned to the three. "What exactly did the Turisan tell you?" he asked.

The captives exchanged a look of unease, their voices a whirring cacophony. 

"Speak!" Valerius bawled in Julius' stead. 

"Well, he, he asked us to take the one-eye here, then, then burn your supplies, bu-but keep it from him," stuttered the one on the left, darting a brisk glance at the flagpole. "And if we still can, try to capture the lady. There's an extra bounty for that. But the blond man told us last night that we have to let Lorenzo win because he's the one paying. While the granary and arsenal are heavily guarded and too risky to approach, all we need for Lorenzo to win is to start a fire, the blond one said." 

Julius squeezed his fists. No one had ever fooled him as such before. Or is there? Something buckled inside him at the sound of the question, shaking the ground of his reality. Above the forbidden and the forgotten of a lost time, shadows swirled up in the shapes of men from the peat of the past. He leveled his sword, swinging it upward to the side. The blade bit right into the flagpole above the blond man's head. "What it is you want?" 

The blond man held still, keeping his head low, while the flagpole quivered from the impact of the iron clunk. 

"Your wife has raised the same question, General," he replied between breaths. "And I'll tell you what I told her that question is rather beside the point. What you ought to have asked is what to do with that which is given. You can kill me afterward, but I beg of you, let me finish what you need to hear." He dared a glance up, his smile devoid of mirth and yet boyishly willful. 

Before Julius could reply, Ariadne tugged at his arm. He tipped his head to his shoulder. "Yes, my love?"

"I may have a plan," she said, her voice well-paced. "While I have a feeling it'll coincide with his," she paused, tilting her head at the blond man. "It's better coming from me." 

Julius lowered his sword as he turned to her. How she smiled at him and only him, the brownish hue of her hazel eyes flickering like topaz, her hands clutching his. 

"With the Turisians lurking on the borders as we speak," she went forth. "We must inform Lorenzo as the first thing we should. Can we at least agree on that?" She scanned the men, her lips pursed, her brows knitted, as she always would when she considered her words. "Good," she resumed, forcing out a smile. "Send me as an envoy so Lorenzo would realize the gravity of the situation, and that we mean for a defensive alliance." 

"No!" Julius rejected forthwith. "You know I won't allow it! End of the discussion!" 

She knew indeed. "Listen to me, my love," she said, her voice soft, eyes adamant. "We'll have to work with Lorenzo to limn a mirage for the Turisians. While I pretend to be negotiating terms for our autonomy in the north, Lorenzo will pretend to go back on his words and march here to fight you. Soldiers would cry, their swords clank, and the dust of hoofbeats would fly in the light of firebrands. But there would be no bloodshed as we'd all take our hidings in the surrounding rocks. All the while, the Turisian armies would wait out until they saw the faux melee die down. Gloating in their premature victory, they would wane in caution and ride up into the traps we would have readied for them."

"What did I say?" The blond man coughed up another laugh. "Your wife is truly impressive. I'd applaud had I not been trussed up like a fowl." 

"Shut up!" Julius snapped, swinging his sword sideways at the flagpole, his eyes on his wife, his head shaking. 

"But I also agree with you, General," the blond man went forth nonetheless. "In no way should you allow this plan." Taking a brisk pause, he flicked an airy grin at Ariadne. "Despite your brilliance, my lady, this isn't what I have in mind. It has reserved no concern for yourself, while you're, as I've stressed many times, by far perhaps the most important piece on the board. Have you thought about what would befall you?"

"I'm only important because I'm a leverage in the possible negotiation." Ariadne didn't balk. "But once the possibility is completely off the table, as Lorenzo initiated the attack, I won't matter." 

"Wrong," the blond man croaked. "This war is a triangle, and it'll be a grave mistake to assume Lorenzo as your ally. He isn't. While you need to team with him to fight the Turisians, you and Lorenzo will always be on the opposing sides." Breaking into another cough, he sank closer to the ground. "Remember, my lady, you're the Praetor's daughter. Sending you away, you turn the table on yourself. Besides, even if Lorenzo wants to keep you alive, Ahmed doesn't, and he's with Lorenzo now. It's no secret that the Turisians loathe your husband. What could be a better way than having you killed for them to get even?" 

Wheeling himself around to the flagpole, Julius drilled with his gaze at the blond man. His voice, his way of thinking, the disdain in the demeanor he commanded, Julius trawled his memory. Had they met before? He squinted. "Even so," he observed at length. "Lorenzo must be informed. I can't fight him and the Turisians. I'm already outnumbered." 

"Untie me," said the blond man in a tone as even as his breath was ragged. "Let me write a letter to Lorenzo. Read it while I write so you know that my plot isn't against you. Then, send an actual envoy to Lorenzo and hand him my letter so he knows you aren't bluffing. He knows my handwriting." The ash-blond strands straggled as he lifted his head, casting his diamond-cut face in a cryptic silhouette.